Bittersweet 2
by homeric
Summary: A sweet moment in dark times. Sirius reflects upon friendship and love.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing - ah everyone knows that already.**_

**Note: A version of this has been up before - somehow I managed to delete the original copy that was posted, so this is the re-written version. Sorry to the kind people who reviewed the original version - I'm a computer idiot.**

_I must try to remember that you are not my lover, merely a friend who has fallen asleep beside me._

The words that repeated like a mantra through his mind were the only disturbance in the quiet sitting room, the only thing that kept him from overstepping the boundaries long since agreed with the woman curled in the chair beside him. Lilys' hair gleamed as bright as the flickering firelight that was casting wild shadows around the room, her long lashes hiding her eyes. Unconsciously she had tucked one arm around herself and pulled her knees up to her chest, her mouth twitched in a faint smile, and Sirius smiled ruefully as he recognised the name she murmured softly.

James had been called away unexpectedly during dinner, and despite Sirius's offer to leave, Lily had laughed and shaken her head at his feeble protests; kissing her husband with the mock rebuke that at least someone should appreciate her cooking. James had grinned and wished Sirius luck, apparating mere moments before the tea towel Lily flicked at him made contact.

They had eaten companionably, conversation flowing with an ease that borne of old friendship and mutual respect, sipped butterbeer afterwards and shared old memories. She did not need to know that James had asked him to keep an eye on her in his absence - Merlin knows she would have been outraged if she found out, but these were dark days and there was safety in numbers no matter how talented the witch or wizard may be. Perhaps if she had not been so beautiful he would have sent her off to bed with a quip and a roll of his eyes when hers fluttered closed. Perhaps if he had not loved James so much he would have edged closer; a slow smile, a soft touch upon her shoulder, tiny flickers of the inferno that invariably followed. He did neither. Tucking his cloak over Lily, Sirius thought idly of the buxom barmaid at The Wobbly Warlock Inn: now she certainly would not have fallen asleep at the first opportunity, in the early hours of the morning when they had both had their satisfaction perhaps… Smirking to himself he watched the steady rise and fall of Lily's chest, amused at the way she had managed to snuggle under his cloak so that her flaming hair was the only evidence of her presence.

When she awoke she would be embarrassed about falling asleep - make a joke about his conversation boring her into unconsciousness, or suggest with a wink that many women would have made far more of the opportunity than she had done. It didn't really matter - conscious or not he would never make any attempt to touch her like that. There was only one man that she looked at with such love it made her almost tooradiant to look at, only one name she whispered in her sleep. When James returned and the silence was broken, Sirius would laugh at her comments and pretend to be insulted, attempt not to flinch at the touch of her skin when she hugged him with all the thoughtless affection she would have shown an older brother. It was too easy to love her and too obvious that she and his best friend were meant to be together.

There had been little beauty in Sirius's life, still fewer moments of such quiet peace. His family had a past asblack as its name; sometimes in the bitter watches of the night he wishes that they could see the company he now kept, if only for a chance to snarl his defiance at them. To most of his relatives the embrace of a red headed mud blood would have been shaken off with as much horror as that of a Dementors's touch, the deep friendship he had with Remus an obscene affront to their heritage. The Blacks were known for the purity of their blood, their elegance and their cruelty.For a long time he had not even imagined there could be anything else.

James, Remus and Peter had changed all that. Between them they had ruled Hogwarts with a potent mixture of arrogance and recklessness, and although he could not look back on all their actions with pride, their friendship had changed him for the better. When Remus had finally admitted his affliction the thought of turning away from their friendship had been unthinkable; after all wasn't the blood than ran through his veins far more poisonous? They had run together, all of them, wild and exuberant, as if daring death itself to catch them, intoxicated by their youth and high spirits. Days long gone and yet always present whenever they met up: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, their own private creed.

Friendship was something to hold on to in these dangerous days. Friendship kept you sane when "The Daily Prophet" reported the deaths of school friends and acquaintances, friendship eased the worry for those who were missing and numb the pain at losing those whose remains were found.

The click of the door latch startled Sirius out of his thoughts and he swiftly tugged his wand from his robes.

"Lily, Sirius?" the voice sounded tired and a little worried.

"In here." Sirius glanced at Lily, but she had not stirred.

The rumpled shape of James Potter emerged from the doorway, his unruly hair flopping into his eyes and his cheeks flushed from the cold. Taking in the scene in front of him he grinned.

"Ah ,the effect you have on women never fails to amaze me Sirius."

"Must have been my witty conversation."

James laughed and wandered off the kitchen. "Don't suppose you two left me anything to eat?"

"Check the sideboard." Getting up stiffly Sirius paused and looked down at Lily for a moment. The fire crackled with the whisper of a thousand _might_ have beens, her slack mouth promising sweet kisses that were never meant for him. Touching her cheek briefly, he left her sleeping and went to find his friend.


End file.
